As the forum auto-splits topics every 50 pages, the next topics will be named further chapters accordingly. This is chapter two, guys, KEEP IT UP!

Post.POST.POST!

Reeds just kept on whistling as guards and crew cleared out of his path. Eventually, he stopped at a door, the label addressing it as 'Science Lab 2A.' He smiled as he opened the door and Lae saw that the science lab was not small by any means. It was massive, in fact, taking up at least five rooms and two floors entirely on its own. It also seemed to host a massive range of equipment, some of which were entirely foreign to him. With all of the technology, equipment, and stores here, one could only wonder what Reeds' intention was with this lab.

He rolled the cart up next to two others and then proceeded to rummage around for a datapad. "Sit down, my fine lab rat." He said friendly still as he finally found his desired object, turning it own and turning toward Lae, a mischievous grin on his face.

Last edited by Quantum Rain on Tue Mar 27, 2012 11:26 am; edited 3 times in total

For a moment, Rebekka loses her composure, a look of actual shock creeping upon her otherwise stern features. "...Other humans? You mean, there are humans here?" She looks at Thumm, whose also seems confused. "In the name of the Emperor..."

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

*Several dozen turian cruisers throw themselves in front of the incoming MAC rounds, sacrificing themselves completely but saving the rest of the fleet from the terrible storm. The rest of the Hierarchy fleet switches to explosive rounds in all their ballistic weapons, which denies the Hive Ship any further opportunities to redirect their shots. Additionally, the bulk of the 22nd turns its attention to the wider Collective fleet and engages them in earnest, focusing their fire on one ship at a time to ensure destruction. A few hundred vessels concentrate their fire on the Hive Ship, but stagger their shots, ensuring constant pressure on it.*

--Planetside--

*The attacks stop--momentarily. Then, the entrenched Collective soldiers begin to be sucked underground, one by one, never to be seen or heard from again.*

--Charad--

*Fallah picks up the quill in her beak and holds it out to the pilot, talking around it.* Fallah: Here, draw or write something. Whatever you like.

--Bladnir Station--

Ackbar: Oh yes indeed. The real question should be, "Where are humans not?" Your species is quite peculiar, Lieutenant Kracht--the most widespread in the galaxy, and yet no-one (not even themselves) has any idea where they're from. The closest thing to a homeworld I know of exists in some ancient writings that reference a planet called "Erde-Tyrene", but no known worlds in the Altair Galaxy match its description. Anyway, I am surprised to meet someone from another galaxy, but I'm not surprised that you're human.

The larger Collective fleet takes the losses in stride, dealing the damage right back at the Turian fleet. The Hive Ship in particular is far tougher than any of the rest, easily soaking up the damage as singularities similar to the Rachni ones form within the Turian fleet, damaging and disrupting their formation.

--Gothis, Land--

Many of the Collective soldiers were in structures, not land, and thus did not disappear. What was taken were sentries, of whom took the most damage by the initial sniper wave.

--Charad--

The pilot looks at the kiwi curiously for a second longer, and then goes to drawing. She drew quickly, accurately, and still retaining a surprising amount of detail. The end result was a small black bird, resembling a raven, in the corner of the paper.

--Aves--

"And they're just as advanced, if not more, than you are Rebekka." Light chimes in. "You're not that alone."

_________________________________________________

Signatures:

"All endeavors call for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish is the one... characteristic we must possess if we are to face the future as finishers." - Henry David Thoreau

"If you think people care about you or your commands, you're delusional. You have to make an impact, a legacy to be accountable to. Be the cause of a calamity or a miracle, and then you will become the symbol of the people; A true leader with authority, either through the mutual fear or love of the masses." - Mikhail Azarias

The Lieutenant frowns as Licht speaks, eying him cautiously. "Erde-Tyrene? Never heard of it. But, if there are humans here..." She looks at Thumm, who nods. "...Then we have no choice, do we? Well, I suppose we do. If you can tell us a bit more about the current situation here, and with the races involved, perhaps I can convince my commanding officer not to execute me for treason or destroy the gate."

Thumm nods, agreeing. "Death isn't good for my health."

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

Light chimes in before the avian leader could reply. "I can do better. I can show you." He looks to the avian. "As for you, there are other matters that require your attention shortly. You will meet them again soon, I promise, but it would be best if you are present for the events that are about to take place." He turns back to the Marzeronians. "That is if you trust me enough to be more than a mere fake magician?"

_________________________________________________

Signatures:

"All endeavors call for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish is the one... characteristic we must possess if we are to face the future as finishers." - Henry David Thoreau

"If you think people care about you or your commands, you're delusional. You have to make an impact, a legacy to be accountable to. Be the cause of a calamity or a miracle, and then you will become the symbol of the people; A true leader with authority, either through the mutual fear or love of the masses." - Mikhail Azarias

A man in a janitorial uniform can be seen sweeping the hallways in front of Sibir.

/Unknown World|Unknown System|Lehon District|Unknown Regions\

Leon managed to hit the creature in it's right shoulder annihilating the juncture, and causing the remains of the formerly attached appendage to fly off. The creature seemed unaffected, apart from the loss of mobility, but was clearly aggravated toward Leon given it was now approaching him with as much speed it could muster.

Siber took in a deep breath and then calmly walked toward the janitor. The janitor would see an officer that seemed confused, looking for someone. Take the bait and make this easy on yourself... Siber thought, acting out his part.

--Unknown World--

Leon frowned, then aimed again, attempting for one of its legs, to see if that would stop or kill the creature.

_________________________________________________

Signatures:

"All endeavors call for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish is the one... characteristic we must possess if we are to face the future as finishers." - Henry David Thoreau

"If you think people care about you or your commands, you're delusional. You have to make an impact, a legacy to be accountable to. Be the cause of a calamity or a miracle, and then you will become the symbol of the people; A true leader with authority, either through the mutual fear or love of the masses." - Mikhail Azarias

The janitor was a little taken aback by seeing an army officer on the orbital ring, but he figured that might explain the man's confusion, "Sir, may I help you?"

/Unknown World|Unknown System|Lehon Sector|Unknown Regions\

Leon succeeds in blowing off most of the creature's front left leg, however the creature seems yet unfettered, propelling itself as well as it could with it's back legs, which wasn't actually very well.

Slavik: Very well my men will start heading planet side. Meanwhile is there any were up here to get a bite to eat? I'm starving and our chef bless him need new stock to give us anything other than gruel.

_________________________________________________Sir Noret: "Men we sail for Crimea to slaughter the enemies of God, those ghastly Turks who seek to disrupt the operations of our glorious ally Russia. Set forth with God Speed!"

"Well, there is the mess hall... not sure that would be much better then your gruel though"

/Recopia|Recopi System|M-11|Marzeronian Core Worlds\

A fleet of around 1100 ships, mostly outdated and of very wide range in type and size entered on the edge of planet's gravity well. They bared the idf codes of the Galactic Empire, and hailed the planetary air&space control.

A thousand ship strong fleet would ring damn near every alarm in the Imperial Fleet. The local in system Squadron responds, unsure of how long they'll be able to hold out, but cautiously answer the hail.

//Message Received...

< "...This is the space of the Marzeron Empire, state your intentions...." >

//Message End...

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

A hesitant and a almost submissive voice, though on that is clearly swallowing a lot of pride responds "This is the Moff Council of the Galactic Empire, or what's left of it, and it's loyal forces. We humbly request sanctuary from the Marzeron Empire."

"Yes, I seemed to have lost my way and my map. Might you have a means to discovering where I am?" Siber replied, mimicking what he thought an officer might sound like. Though his lack of experience on the matter was certainly not helping him.

--Unknown World--

Leon was fed up with this damnation from Hell. He aimed for the head, taking his time, and then fired. At such a closer range, it was actually difficult for him to miss his target.

_________________________________________________

Signatures:

"All endeavors call for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish is the one... characteristic we must possess if we are to face the future as finishers." - Henry David Thoreau

"If you think people care about you or your commands, you're delusional. You have to make an impact, a legacy to be accountable to. Be the cause of a calamity or a miracle, and then you will become the symbol of the people; A true leader with authority, either through the mutual fear or love of the masses." - Mikhail Azarias

"Well, I don't really have any sort of map, it's my job to know where things are around here, but there is a breakroom down the hallway on your third left, they might have something there? Why didn't you pick one up at the dock, Sir?" The janitor barely remembers he's speaking to someone who outranks him.

/Unknown World|Unknown System|Lehon Sector|Unknown Regions\

Leon's shot hits it's mark, blowing apart the creature's head which stops the thing and causes what was left of it's shattered body to go limp.

/Recopia|Recopi System|Mazeronian Core Worlds\

"This is the Moff Council of the Galactic Empire, or what's left of it, and it's loyal forces. We humbly request sanctuary from the Marzeron Empire. I repeat, we request sanctuary, we have been forced out by some strange combination of coup and popular upheaval. You are the only nation that might have a chance at dissuading the usurpers from hunting us."

A reply comes shortly after, and voices can be heard in the background.

//Message Received...

=< "... Last transmission confirmed, standby....... The Governor of Recopia has granted your request for asylum, final verdict to be given by the Imperator within the week, sending coordinates for ships to berth. Capital class ships to Docking Station 45-B, Frigate and cruiser class ships to Docking station 26-E, corvette and fighter craft to Docking station 98-F, and shuttles and landing craft to Space Port N12-A." >=

//Message End...

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

*Multiple ships of the 22nd are destroyed, but the turians are unfazed and keep on fighting. They take evasive maneuvers to avoid the singularities but maintain fleet cohesion, launch another volley of disruptor torpedoes, and then open up on the Collective armada with their Thanix Cannons.

--Gothis, Land--

*The attacks briefly stop again. Then, the unseen and unknown enemy begins killing the Collective soldiers inside the structures as well. They strike like lightning from multiple directions, vanish, and then repeat the process. Whatever they are, they are definitely not turians.*

--Charad--

Fallah: A crow? No, a raven. Just like the one on your construct. Do you have a name?

--Bladnir Station--

Ackbar: What? I can't keep talking with the nice people from another galaxy? You've got to be [censored] me.

High Senator Kavinnsson starts to panic, and hits the emergency broadcast button. "Aktung allte Gal'Gai, Feyari, okk Marentanz! Deð er Uppssennator Kavinnsson! Rim Fey! Jeg endurar, rim Fey!" He leaves the broadcast on repeat, and almost as soon as it goes out, several small ships launch from the docks and landing pads, filling the sky with small dark blotches. Kavinnsson and the other Gal'Gai in his office, along with his Honor Guard detachment, leave for his private shuttle. The other people in the building do the same with their shuttles.

A large scale evacuation plan is put into effect, and soon every large spacecraft is filled with as many people as possible, effectively saving most of the population as long as they get out of the Fey system.

___________________________~Alba, Fjolstrom's Landing Pad~

Fjolstrom shakes the massive foot, and says, "It is a pleasure to meet you, and I'm impressed that you've already learned Alska! You already know my name, but I can't say the same for you." At this point in time, one of Fjolstrom's aides comes running up to the landing pad, out of breath.

"Norrmar...we've lost contact...with every satellite...around...Fey!" He gasps, crouching down with his hands on his knees.

"What?!" says Fjolstrom, a little taken aback. "How? Are you sure this isn't an error on our end?"

"No, the last transmission we can pick up from the memory of Fey's comm satellites is an emergency evacuation order from High Senator Kavinnsson himself."

"Alright.." muses Fjolstrom. "I'm terribly sorry, but we'll have to properly introduce ourselves sometime in the future, Hjergesend. It would seem that I need to call a meeting of the utmost importance." he says, with a dignified but slightly rushed-sounding voice.

___________________~Konnsallann Station~

"Hmm. That could work. What do you think, Jon?" asks Ragnarsson. Just then, a member of the Honor Guard comes through the door, taking long, dignified strides, of the kind when one needs to get somewhere quickly, but does not want to run.

"Anna, every satellite around Fey just went dark." He says, not showing any sort of emotion in his voice.

"What?" Asks High Senator Aklasdaottir, Ragnarsson, and Þørsson all at once.

"The last transmission received was an evacuation order from High Senator Kavinnsson." Replies the Honor Guard.

"Very well, then, Bjarne, thank you for the information." Says Anna.

"We should send a small group of ships to Fey to see what's causing the evacuation." Suggests Þørsson.

"I agree, but first, let's hold a meeting with the other High Senators, I'm sure they've heard this news, too." replies Anna.

Rebekka sighed, resigning herself to the hand that fate had dealt her. "I would never trust anything that called itself an angel, Licht, but I will see what you have to show. Ave Imperator, may he forgive me."

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

As they finish docking, the travel weary passengers go the major city on the planet, the capitol (by default) of Recopia. The hotels and other places quickly fill up, but the military manages to make room for everyone on the island chain city.

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

The hails are recieved, the local squadron having taken orbit over the planet in a show of force to the local Moffs. The Sector Fleet would arrive soon, though.

Planet-side

The remaining members of the Moff council and their loyal generals would find themselves in a large, open office, probably the biggest available on such short notice. Entering the room was the military governor of Recopia, Lord General Swain. A tall, stone-faced man, he stood at one end of the table where the moffs were seated, waiting for them to speak first.

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."

"Greetings from the Directorate, some short time ago one of your empire's scouts happened into our territory at unfortunately inconvenient time. However, we have come to open proper diplomatic channels."

Moff Salif, who had clearly retained his informal leadership over the council possessing boasting both the largest and most advanced portion of the fleet as well as his previous seniority, rose after the Lord General walked in and then bowed; the other assembled Moffs quickly attempted to out do each other in following suit. Salif ignores the others but speaks for them, "Sir, we must express our sincerest gratitude for your granting of sanctuary."

=< "Confirmed, Directorate diplomatic vessel. Please hold... Proceed to Docking Station 56-A, there is room for you there." >=

//Message End...

Planet-side

Lord General Swain bows slightly, nodding. "Your gratitude is noted, Moff Salif. The Imperator will pass his Final Judgement upon you, however he sees fit. While I am sure he will be kind enough to grant you permanent asylum, I might suggest you, ah, submit queries into how you might aid the Empire during your stay. A little incentive may help the Emperor pass his Judgement in a swift manner." The old man says, taking a seat. He was a tried and true general, old with age but he still had his wit about him.

_________________________________________________"Throw your men into positions once there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight."